Playing House
by editor frog
Summary: Eight months after Sienna's "visit," Reid gets the shock of his life, in the one place he never expected... Sequel to Addicted Archangel's "Sins of the Father" series.
1. Distorted Reality

**Hello again. With the support of Addicted Archangel, the wonderfully evil Sienna is about to make another appearance...**

**(Please be assured I will be working on my other fics as well...) Thanks to AA for the beta and the use of her character!**

**Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine. It's not AA's either, darn it all...**

* * *

A year had passed since the horrific events in Michigan.

Eight months had passed since Sienna Nolan had made her "midnight visit" to Reid's bedchamber. Even though Morgan had gotten there that night and had the place swept for absolutely _everything_ that could be thought of while Gideon had come to personally check on Reid himself, Reid still couldn't shake the feeling that he was still being watched.

Right now, he was exhausted. Being out in the field for the better part of a week looking for a serial killer who preyed on unsuspecting college students would do that to anyone. The young agent wanted nothing more than to collapse underneath his thick covers and fall fast asleep. He was sincerely grateful that the team had been given the next two days off in order to rest.

Dropping his bags near the sofa, he half-dazedly made his way into the bathroom, where he stepped into the shower. He ran his fingers through the medium-length strands of hair that had managed to grow out of the mess he'd been forced to create on his scalp.

He stood underneath the warm water, letting the spray wash more than lingering ash and soot from his frame.

Once he finished, he grabbed the nearest towel off the rack and covered himself at once with it. Even though he was completely alone in his own apartment, he still didn't like the thought of being exposed, not for even a fraction of a second.

He stood in front of the mirror, staring at his own reflection. The same soft brown eyes stared back at him.

_It's getting better,_ he thought.

There had been a point where Reid was afraid to leave the office at Quantico—it had taken Hotch assigning some extra security on both the young agent's home and person and Garcia's promise that she was combing the cyberverse looking for Sienna's whereabouts to convince him that he would not be left alone and vulnerable. The security had since been lifted, but Garcia had made it her personal mission to find "that completely deranged little hussy" that had hurt them so completely. Reid guessed that she had seen a few things she didn't want to during the search for him, and he never mentioned it in an attempt to spare her.

Once he was dry, Reid pulled on a large burgundy bathrobe—a remnant from when he had been in college, but it was still so thick and warm that he couldn't bear to part with it.

Finally making his way down the hall towards his waiting bed, the young man could smell the lingering scent of fabric softener that clung to his sheets. He was glad that he'd decided to change them the morning before the team left for Olympia.

Reid pulled on his fuzzy pajamas—the kind that felt like wearing a fleece blanket while a person slept—and slipped in between the covers, falling fast asleep.

The sun poured into the bedroom window the next morning, revealing a gorgeous early April day.

_It's too early,_ Reid thought. _Just a few more minutes…_

The sun, however, was not as easily ignored. The young doctor finally pulled back the covers and slid into his slippers.

_Were these slippers always this stiff?_ he wondered. _Maybe I'm just imagining things…_

Reid reached out for his bathrobe and pulled it on, making sure to tie the belt firmly around his thin waist.

_It's my day off,_ he thought. _I'm just going to sit around in my pajamas all day and maybe catch up on a little reading._

He threw open his bedroom door and made his way down the hall towards the kitchen.

_I must really be tired,_ he decided. _Those walls seem 'brighter' somehow…_

Once he reached the kitchen, Reid made a beeline for his favorite cereal bowl—the red one with the matching spoon he'd gotten as a Christmas gift from Emily last year. Absentmindedly, he reached for the box of Cheerios, managing to knock it off its shelf and send the little pieces flying everywhere.

_Damn. Good thing I'm not planning to go out today…_

Reid walked over and grabbed his usual broom from behind the refrigerator.

_That's strange. Where'd I leave the dustpan? It's usually right here attached to the broom…_

Not letting it get to him, he managed to sweep the bits of cereal into an old piece of newspaper and tossed it out. Reid then ladled a generous amount of sugar on top of his Cheerios and sat down on the sofa. He sank into his usual position he liked on the soft cushions—except this time, for some reason, he didn't 'sink' like he normally did.

_Did I have these cushions restuffed? _he thought.

Reid then sat down his cereal bowl on the coffee table and took a closer look at his sofa. There just didn't seem to be something right about it…

_Wait. This isn't right. My sofa is __**green**__. This sofa is __**blue**__. What the hell is going on here?_

Now wide awake, the young agent waked over every inch of his apartment. Everything seemed…well, _newer_. More sound.

Like it had just been built…

_That's impossible, Spencer. You're really losing it if you think that's the case._

As a way of 'proving' himself wrong, Reid walked toward the front door, putting his hands on the knob and twisting it. As he did, a loud siren blared, piercing the young agent's ears and startling him enough to drop his hand.

_What is __**that**_he thought to himself. _That's definitely not my alarm system…_

Just then, there was a soft rattling coming from the kitchen. Reid cautiously moved towards the unknown sound, hoping that he didn't suddenly have a mouse running loose in his place.

He turned the corner to see someone standing in his kitchen, filling the coffeemaker with a paper filter and six scoops of coffee grounds.

"Morning, Spencer," said an all-too-familiar voice. "Coffee?"

Reid dropped the coffee mug he'd picked up onto the floor. It landed with a violent _crash_, breaking into several large pieces.

"Now, that wasn't nice," said the voice. "I should get that…can't have you around sharp objects, now can we, Spencer? Or perhaps you like 'Dr. Reid' better…but, seeing as we know each other _so well…_"

"How…how did you…" the young agent stammered.

_No. It can't be. It's __**impossible…**_

"Oh, this?" the voice asked, waving an agile hand around their surroundings. "You like? I had it custom made, just for you…"

Reid froze. "H-how did you get _in_ here, Sienna?"


	2. It's Just a Dream, Isn't It?

**Hello again. Crazy Sienna is back in full force. Thanks to AA for the beta!**

**Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine. Neither, technically, is Sienna...**

* * *

Sienna let a lazy smile cross her face. Reid, half terrified and half in shock, tensed as he began taking steps away from the woman who had terrorized and nearly destroyed him so many months before.

"Get in? Oh, dear. Guess I forgot to mention that…whoopsie."

"Mention what?" the young doctor said, trying with all his might to keep his voice as calm as possible.

"Mmmm…well…how to put it?" Sienna trailed. "You see, doctor, this isn't _technically_ 'your' apartment."

Reid's eyes glanced over the two adjacent rooms he was standing in. _She's cracked,_ he thought. _This is __**my**__ apartment. That's __**my**__ kitchen and __**my**__ living room…_

_But then, why is the sofa blue?_

"Oh. I see you noticed the sofa," the woman said, noticing the young man's gaze. "Sad, really—I simply couldn't get that particular shade of green that the one is in your apartment. Seems they quit making that particular shade of green in the 1980s. The blue's rather nice, though, don't you think?"

Reid stood in the doorway to the kitchen wanting very much to be sick. He looked down at his bathrobe and slippers, feeling extremely underdressed and nearly naked.

"You're lying. This _is _my house. That's _my _bed in there, a-and…

"Yeah…that one was particularly tricky. Finding the right wrought-iron bed…priceless."

Sienna tapped a full coffee mug she had set out on the countertop. "Six sugars, three creamers, and _always_ in the giant blue mug. Go on, have some. It's Columbian roast—your favorite. Me personally, I prefer French, but…"

"No."

Reid continued backing out of the doorway, turning and racing down the hall towards his bedroom. Once inside, he threw the door behind him, slamming it shut and locking it.

_This isn't happening. This isn't happening. This isn't happening…_

Walking over to the window, he leaned in and pulled up on the glass in order to try and crawl out.

The window pane didn't move. It didn't budge an inch.

Frustrated, Reid tried banging on the glass, hoping to break it. The glass remained as solid and as sound as ever.

"Three inches thick, soundproof and unbreakable," came a voice from just inside the doorway. The young doctor spun around and saw his captor standing there, swinging a thin key from a long silver chain.

"It's sweet, really, that you're trying to disprove the obvious," she trilled. "But now it's time to accept reality, Spencer…here you are, and here you're going to stay."

It was as if the young doctor had been punched. He slammed his hands flat on the glass, trying one last time to alert someone to his presence. It was no use.

"Come on now," Sienna said, reaching out a hand. "Come and eat your breakfast…"

Reid stood fixed to his spot. He stared at his tormentor for a long few seconds, and finally sank down to the floor. He was trying not to cry, but a single tear fell from the corner of his eye.

"Why…"

"Why you, Spencer? Well, it's simple really. I just couldn't get the image of you out of my head. The many images, really…there's just so many…" Her mouth curved into a slow smile as she let her mind recall the many times she had seen the young agent before.

Reid sank further, trying to put as much distance between him and Sienna as possible. "Please, just go away," he said. "This is my house. Just go away and leave me alone!"

"Oh, I don't plan to go anywhere," Sienna said lazily. "And yes, I _suppose _this is _your _house…just not quite the one you fell asleep in last night. But, yes, this _is_ your home…and will be for a long, long time."

Her eyes trailed down Reid's hunched form, slowly taking in the sight. The young man tightened his grip on his bathrobe, not wanting to let it fall open even a fraction of an inch.

"All right now," she said, all business. "Get up. Time to eat."

"I-I'm not hungry."

"You're sure?"

"Yes." The last word came out as a spat bullet.

"Have it your way. I'm going out. I should be back fairly soon, so take your time and make yourself comfortable."

_She's leaving? Perfect. I can just leave after her…_

"I know what you're thinking, Spencer," Sienna said. "You're thinking 'I'll just take off after she leaves,' but there's a problem with the door. See, the damn thing only allows certain people _out_ of it…"

Reid remembered. "The alarms…"

"Yes. That. Had you actually tried to leave, large steel beams would have slammed down on your feet and locked you in. Come to think of it, they still might, even if you so much as _touch_ the door frame. Works on DNA, you see…I have a friend who's much, much better at this sort of thing, but she says that it's unbeatable. I'm still on the fence…

_The windows are unbreakable. The door's rigged. _

Reid's hopes sank. _What do I do now?_


	3. Photographs and Memories

**Hello again. Loads more tension and angst await...**

**Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine. Though I would like this bathroom...**

* * *

The young agent heard Sienna's footsteps patter down the hall and close and lock the front door behind her. Within seconds he sprang up from his position on the bedroom floor and raced to the door's threshold.

_Okay, I can beat this,_ Reid thought. _All I have to do is __**not**__ touch the doorframe and I'm all set…_

He reached out and took hold of the doorknob, holding his breath. There was nothing. No alarms. No buzzers. Just silence.

_So far, so good._

He then tried ever-so-carefully to turn the knob _without _touching the frame. Try as he might, though, the knob simply wouldn't turn.

_It's stuck,_ Reid thought. _What if I try using two hands?_

He placed his other hand on the metal of the doorknob only, trying with all his might to turn the latch. It still remained fast, not moving even a fraction of an inch.

Panic began to rise in the young agent's chest. _Oh God,_ he thought. _The doorknob is balanced so that a person __**has**__ to touch the door to open it…_

_But she never said the door __**itself**__ was wired…_

Latching onto that small hope, Reid gently placed one hand onto the metal door, hoping to be able to brace himself enough to work the latch and pull the door open. The second his fingers brushed the surface, the door began to vibrate and loud, piercing wails assaulted the young man's ears. Behind the steel door, Reid could feel something moving.

_It's the bars,_ he realized sadly. _She was right. I'm not getting out this way…_

Determined now, the young doctor raced into every room he could open, trying desperately to pry even one of the windows open a fraction of an inch. Though he must have tried ten windows, not one of them would budge, even a centimeter. As the last one refused to move, Reid began beating his fists against the thick plastic, hoping that _someone_ would notice the racket he was making.

There was no one to be seen.

_Where the hell __**am**__ I?_ he wondered.

Trying to calm himself down, the young agent stared hard out of the window. Though the inside of the 'apartment' looked almost exactly like his own, he just now realized that the outside was vastly different. There was no brownstone across the street, no sets of rowhouses lining the block, no neighbors or cars or even little elm trees placed neatly in a row on his side of the street.

There was, however, a lot of cement. Abandoned structures littered the skyline as far as Reid could see, and the road was deserted of any form of life. The young agent stared down towards the street; it was at least a good twelve stories up, a far cry from his usual four-story perch.

_Even if I got the window open, there's no way I can survive a twelve-story drop, _he realized. _And no matter how loud I shouted, there's no one to hear me…_

Reid laid his palms flat against the window, leaning his head against the glass. He closed his eyes, and started breathing deeply to mediate the overwhelming fear and hopelessness that was starting to work itself through his system.

_She's done it again,_ he thought. _Last time it was absence of; this time I'm surrounded by familiar things—and yet, the result is still the same. I am a prisoner, even in what looks to be my own home._

At this last thought, Reid lost it and sent a shelf of books flying.

_Damn it! _ _How the hell did she get me in here? Why wasn't I aware of being moved?_

The young doctor ran his fingers through his floppy mane of hair, and realized two things—that he wasn't about to let her take his hair again and that he really wanted a shower.

Resigning himself, he made his way to the second door down the hallway—_after all,_ he thought, _if she's really followed the floor plan of my apartment, this will be the door to the bathroom._

Upon opening it, however, Reid stood in complete shock.

It was a bathroom. However, it was more bathroom than Reid had ever experienced, at least in his own place. Red tiles lined walls, and there were gold fixtures that held all sorts of things: soap, linens, fluffy towels, and bath salts. His feet stood on black marble plates that engulfed the floor, pausing only to allow a tall bathroom sink, a toilet, and the largest whirlpool tub he'd ever seen—all in matching black marble.

Though mildly impressed, Reid began to wonder. _Why go to all the trouble of recreating my apartment and then have the bathroom done to her liking? _ he wondered.

He stood there, in his pajamas and bathrobe, staring at the opulence. He almost didn't want to bathe in there; it seemed to the young man that he was giving in to the crazy woman if he made use of the bathroom of his dreams.

_But I can't not use it, _he realized. _Even if I forgo the bathing and wash in the kitchen sink, eventually I'll have to…_

He quickly stepped out of the bathroom and made his way to the bedroom—he almost thought of it as his, but remembered that _this_ was not his home, no matter how much it looked like it.

Reid stepped over to the closet, hoping that there were clothes in it. To his surprise, there were—many of them his own.

_How did she move my clothes…?_

At the moment, however, he didn't really care. Rummaging through the piles of fabric, he quickly pulled out a pair of jeans and a rust colored sweater vest. Another dive in found his underwear and a cream-colored turtleneck.

_This'll work,_ he thought.

As he gathered his clothes together, wondering if he should put on more, his eyes trailed over a set of three pictures that lay in a black frame. Picking up the bundle, he walked over to study the photos more closely.

The first picture was one of himself and his mother, during one of her 'good' days. The third picture was of him fast asleep after a particularly hard case. Morgan and Emily had managed to take the shot, and Garcia had deemed it '_so cute_' that she made copies for everyone.

The middle picture was of him and the rest of the team, sitting at a very large dinner table. Reid remembered this picture: it had been at Thanksgiving, and everyone had gone to Hotch's for dinner. Haley's cooking had been wonderful, and he had managed _not_ to trip over, burn, or otherwise destroy a single thing in the house—a rare achievement. The meal had gone on for hours, with everyone telling stories and generally enjoying each other's company. Haley herself had taken the picture of all seven of them, relaxed, smiling, and not worried about being called out to save the world from another monster.

Reid had kept this photo, even though there were a couple dozen others like it; it had been the first time he'd really felt like he was part of a family. Sure, he loved his mother; he always would, but it had been difficult growing up practically by himself, with his mom getting worse as time went on. Here, though, he felt like he belonged somewhere.

Seeing the photograph made Reid fill with both sadness and anger. He was sad because he knew he had to find a way to overcome this latest obstacle in order to see 'his family' again; and angry that such a deranged person like Sienna Nolan could have taken him away from everything he loved and knew—not once, but _twice._

_If it takes me the rest of my life, I am going to get out of here,_ Reid promised himself. _I will not be 'kept' like some highly intelligent housepet in a glass cage._

_The trick is, how am I going to do it?_

Swallowing hard, Reid suddenly realized that now was one of those times he would need to step inside that bathroom again.

_Might as well clean myself up while I'm at it, _ he thought. _After all, last time I couldn't even get a drop of water…_

Reid thought about that. _What's changed her method? _he wondered. _Last time she wanted to humiliate and destroy me to torture Gideon, and suddenly she's got me locked in what looks like my own home for her own personal amusement. Why the change?_

Setting those thoughts aside for the moment, Reid stepped into the bathroom and began to remove his bathrobe.

* * *

The water was heavenly. It was warm in all the right places, the whirlpool jets bubbled merrily and Reid could feel the last few hours of stress and tension melt away underneath a mountain of lavender soapsuds.

_If only I didn't have to leave this room,_ he thought. _I could get used to more baths like this…_

Suddenly there was a _creaking_ sound coming from the living room.

Footsteps tapped against the kitchen tile. "I'm home," sang a voice that snapped the young doctor out of his reverie.

_Oh hell._

Reid looked around at himself underneath the bubbles. He was sitting in the tub completely naked, having let himself forget that the crazy woman would come back.

_After this I take a bath with underwear on,_ he swore to himself.

"Spencer? Where are you?" The tone in Sienna's voice changed from happy to mild concern.

_At least she's not pissed yet,_ he thought, looking quickly at the scars up and down his arms and legs. _Dear God, I don't think I can survive another 'punishment' like that…_

There was a soft tap on the door. "Spencer? Are you in there?"

Reid remained silent. He willed himself not to move a muscle, to avoid making a splash.

The footsteps padded down the hall towards the bedroom.

_Thank God, _he thought. _She didn't come in…_

A few seconds later, the door swung open. There, clad only in a see-through bathrobe, was the figure of a woman Reid had hoped desperately never to see.

"Well, _there_ you are," she crooned. "I was looking for you—didn't you hear me calling?"

"N-no," Reid lied, hoping it would satisfy her. Trying to stay as calm as possible, he asked, "What are you doing?"

"Oh, I decided I'd take a bath—it's crappy outside, lots of smoke and whatnot," she said, stepping closer to the huge tub. "You like?" she asked him. "I saw the catalogs in your bathroom and decided to make just this one little upgrade…"

Reid's stomach began to protest. He desperately tried to quell the urge to leap out of the tub and vomit.

"Anyway, the tub's large enough for two…"

Reid was trapped. He was certainly not about to share a bathtub with this insane creature, but he wasn't about to run out of the tub with nothing on, either. He felt completely exposed—even more so than when this woman had cut his boxer shorts off of him a little more than a year ago.

As her robe dropped to the floor, his eyes clenched shut. He heard the sounds of her feet stepping over the tub walls and the water settling around her own stark form.

It was too much. Not wasting a second, Reid leaned out, reached for a towel, nearly threw it into the water to cover himself and raced out of the room, running down the hall and locking the bedroom door behind him. As an afterthought, he pulled the large dresser in front of the door, ensuring that his captor couldn't' just unlock the door and let herself in.

Once he was certain that Sienna couldn't reach him, he sank onto the bed, feeling ashamed and violated.

_What does this woman __**want**__ with me? _he wondered.


	4. The Spare Bedroom

**Hello again. This part's leading into the really dark and angsty, so if you're not a fan...**

**Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine. But thanks to AA and tearbos for the betas!**

* * *

Reid curled into a ball, wrapping himself tightly in the thick green comforter. He wanted desperately to believe he was in an extremely vivid nightmare, but the stray drops of bathwater that clung to his skin and dampened the warm fabric around him kept him from that possibility.

_Why? _he asked himself. _Why me? Why now?_

His thoughts were interrupted by a light tapping on the door. "Spencer?"

Reid didn't answer. He curled tighter into his blankets, wishing himself away from this disturbed creature.

"Come on now. Either you can be good and open the door, or I'll have to take it off its hinges and take it away, and then I'll be mad. You don't want to make me mad, do you?"

The young agent remembered what had happened the last time Sienna had been 'mad.'

_I don't have a choice._

Keeping a firm grip on the comforter that enveloped him from shoulder to foot, Reid slowly moved the dresser and unlocked the door. Sienna stood there, inches from his frame, her eyes taking in every part of him that was still exposed. The thought of being 'undressed' by this woman's gaze as enough to make his stomach curl.

"Good boy," she said approvingly. "Now come on, get dressed. I expect to see you out here for dinner…I'm making your favorite."

With that, she spun on her heel and sauntered towards the kitchen, humming a merry tune.

Reid watched as his captor made her way into the kitchen. _I could take her, _he thought. _I know I've been paying attention when Morgan teaches me things…I'm sure I could take her and not suffer for it._

_I think._

_But I'll do it after I'm dressed._

Sighing, the young man closed the door once more and began to put on his clothes.

"Oh, Spencer?" Sienna called down the narrow hallway. "Leave the door open. Wouldn't want you getting any ideas…"

Reid froze. _No way am I letting her watch me get dressed. Not in this lifetime._

A few minutes passed.

"Fine. Off it comes."

The young man hurriedly threw on the rest of his clothes and flung the door open as hard as he could.

"Spencer, are you _trying_ to push your luck?" Sienna yelled.

_Oh, crap. Good one, genius. Piss her off. Maybe this time she'll __**only**__ try to kill you…_

"I-I'm sorry!" he called out.

_That's good. Maybe she'll let that slide…_

The smell of something wonderful wafted down the hallway, tantalizing Reid's nostrils. He crept closer, not wanting to be seen by his captor but dying to have a look at what she was making. He hadn't eaten since noon the day before, and he was starving.

It was turkey. Crispy, golden brown turkey, all trimmed with the usual sides—corn bread, stuffing, green beans, mashed potatoes, gravy, and in a large bowl sat some beautiful strawberries. The sight of his favorite meal, laid out for an intimate dinner, was enough to make the young man's mouth water. His stomach clawed its way up his throat, longing for even a bite of the wonderful spread that sat just close enough to touch.

However, Reid didn't dare touch a bite. He was afraid to. He sat at the table, looking at all the things he loved, and had to control his overwhelming urge to eat everything in sight.

"You're not eating?" Sienna asked, taking slow, thoughtful bites of her meal. "After I went to all the trouble?"

_Trouble? Yes, that you are. I'm starving, but knowing you, you probably put poison in the food. _

"I-I'm just not hungry," he stammered. His eyes, however, told a much different story.

"Not…hungry."

Slowly, Reid shook his head.

Silence reigned in the small kitchen for a long few moments.

"Liar."

Frightened, Reid shook his head wildly. "No, I-I'm not."

"Oh, spare me! Your face says completely the opposite!"

_Oh. Crap._

Within seconds, Sienna was out of her chair and had one very strong hand wrapped around Reid's throat. Despite his limbs flailing mercilessly towards his attacker, the woman managed to physically drag the young doctor out of his chair and down the hall, into what Reid had at first thought was his spare bedroom.

Once inside, however, he was disabused of that notion.

Inside, the room was completely black. The walls were covered in black reflective paint, creating a silvery cast onto the dark walls when the smallest amount of light hit them. Long silver chains dangled idly from the ceiling, with solid metal cuffs attached to each one. There were several devices Reid had only read about in ancient books, lazily waiting for someone to be strapped into them and tortured beyond all hope.

Sienna tossed the young man onto the floor like an oversized rag doll. "Strip," she barked. "_**Now.**_"

Though frightened, Reid stayed completely motionless. He was not about to be put in that humiliating situation again.

The woman grabbed something long and thin from a rack bolted to the side wall—it was a leather whip, tipped with some sort of metal at the ends.

"I said, _**strip**."_

Again, Reid didn't move. "No, he whispered. "I won't."

The lash hit so fast the young agent could barely tell it had been coming. The thin strip of leather bit into his clothes, leaving a ragged trail where solid cloth once lay.

"_**Take. Off. Your. Clothes.**_

Once more, Reid curled into a ball, trying to protect himself and remain as clothed as possible.

Sienna grabbed another device off the wall—this one a long metal pole with a half-moon strip of metal soldered to the top. Deftly, she pinned Reid to the floor by his neck with it.

"I'm going to tell you one more time. Take off your clothes, or I will rip them off thread by thread until you do."

_She's not that crazy. She's not __**that**__ crazy._

_Is she?_

Slowly, Reid shook his head, squeezing his eyelids tightly shut.

"Fine. Have it your way."

The sound of metal scraping against the parquet flooring assaulted Reid's ears. Before he could even open his eyes, he felt thin metal bands closing around his ankles. By the time he managed to turn his head towards his wrists, they too were bound in chains.

Sienna pulled on each one of the metal lines, raising Reid up about three feet from the ground and parallel to her waist.

"Now," she said icily. "You're going to learn what it means to follow directions, Spencer Reid."


	5. Ever Think You're Being Watched?

**Hello again. Hope you enjoy this next part...and that it answers a few questions!**

**Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine. Nope, still not.**

* * *

Reid hung from his restraints, his back growing more black-and-blue from Sienna's violent lashes. He bit back every scream and cry he wanted to let out, not wanting to give in to this crazy woman.

His clothes were gone. Like before, she had simply cut them off of his frame once he had been strung up from the ceiling.

"When I tell you to _**do**_ something," she screeched, flailing her whip across his back and legs again and again, "you _**do**_ it! Am I making myself _clear_?"

_What, that you're insane? Absolutely. Stringing a man up and beating him to death does kind of give that impression…_

Aloud, he said "Yes," very softly.

"What was that?" Sienna mocked. "I don't think I quite heard you…"

"_**Yes!**_" Reid cried out, absorbing yet another bite from the rough leather, this time across his side.

Satisfied, Sienna dropped the whip down onto the floor.

"Are you ready to come and eat now?" she asked, in a more calm tone.

_Just as soon as I collapse and bleed to death…_

Though the whip had been tipped, surprisingly there hadn't been a lot of blood drawn from Reid's form. The lashes had been hard enough to cause a lot of pain and shred his clothes for the few seconds they'd remained on, but not enough to cause major damage to his skin.

His tormentor stepped around his limp frame, studying him as though the young doctor were on display in a museum.

"Such beautiful features," she remarked, half to herself. "It's such a shame to have to mar them."

_Then why?_

"Look up at me," she commanded.

Not wanting to risk another go at this sort of torment, Reid obeyed.

"Now, apologize."

_For what?_

"I-I'm sorry…"

"For?"

Reid's mind swam. He tried to think of what he could say to pacify the crazy person standing in front of him.

"For…for not eating. It was wrong. I'm sorry."

_Hopefully that does the trick…_

The young man barely noticed being released form his restraints, but he did cry out as his bruised and beaten frame connected with the solid wood floor. He curled into a ball once more, wanting very much to just be left alone for a while.

"Take a minute or two and put some pants on," Sienna ordered him. "Then get out there and eat." With that, she stalked out of the room and returned to her own meal.

The thought of eating frightened Reid. He knew eventually he'd _have_ to take in _something_, but eating something that the deranged person out there had prepared…

The young doctor shuddered at the thought.

* * *

"Well, I see you _have_ learned your lesson," Sienna remarked brightly.

Reid walked into the small kitchen and took his seat. He was clad in only a pair of slacks and a scowl that darkened his face. The thought of having to "follow" his captor's "instructions" irked the young man to no end, and the idea of him having to sit to dinner half-naked was humiliating.

Sienna handed him a plate, loaded with everything she'd set on the table two hours before. "Here. Eat."

Picking up his fork, Reid slowly began to clear the plate. Though he was starving, he forced himself to take his time, mentally checking every bite for some hint of poison or foreign substance.

"You're awfully quiet," Sienna complained. "Don't you have anything to talk about?"

_Oh, the possibilities are endless, _Reid thought. _For starters, why me? Why the elaborate prison? Am I being taped? Am I being watched? How soon before you just slit my throat and be done with it? Does anyone know I'm even missing?_

"How…how did I get here?" he asked cautiously.

Smiling, Sienna rested her head upon her arms, which were balancing upward on her elbows. "Oh, yes. That. Well, it really was rather easy…you seem to take a high dose of sleeping serum quite well."

Reid's brows crinkled.

"Yep, just a little shot. You never felt a thing, tired as you were. A male friend of mine carried you out; he remarked that you were awfully light, and that I should fatten you up a bit."

_Better people have tried, lady, _the young agent thought, thinking of the countless times Morgan and Garcia had basically shoved food down his throat—and that was on top of all the Twinkies and dark chocolate he usually found himself eating throughout the day.

"After that it was just a matter of placing you on your bed. Worked, too—you didn't notice a thing, I bet." She smiled, a little too sweetly.

"Why me?" Reid asked.

"Ah, yes. The eternal question, isn't it?"

_You have __**no**__ idea._

"Rack that wonderful memory of yours. You remember I promised you that we'd be seeing each other again?"

Reid recalled. He'd been greeted with a sly smile and a knife tip perched at his stomach. He nodded, his mouth full of stuffing.

"Well, after a while, I realized that the best way to make the bastard pay for what he'd done was to take away his own 'special person," Sienna continued. "Plus, I was able to have a glimpse into what a 'real' relationship was like…my one friend and her new husband were quite the pair, perfectly matched…"

Hope sank like a rock in Reid's stomach. "M-matched?"

"Yeah. It was beautiful. And then I figured, so were you…"

_Jesus, Mary and Joseph. She's planning to 'keep' me as a 'mate'…and all to destroy Gideon? _

_But, how is she going to do that?_

Struggling to remain calm and collected, Reid asked, "How would keeping me destroy Gideon? I'm certain no one knows I'm here…"

_At least, that's how it worked before…_

"Oh? Well, don't look too closely at the walls and fixtures, then."

"Why…?"

"Because you're being watched."

Reid, startled at this last statement, dropped his fork and backed away from the table. His eyes began glancing over every inch of visible surface, looking for the camera he was sure was hidden somewhere…

"Relax," Sienna cooed. "They're well hidden, and not that obvious. I doubt you could find them all, even if you tore the place apart to splinters. But, there they are, broadcasting to a server run by a friend, who is streaming them to that little tech girl's computer farm as we speak. By the time everyone comes back to work, there'll be all sorts of images to peruse..."

The young man wanted to vomit. His life, just as it had been before, was being videotaped for all to see. He had been completely stripped of his privacy, and because he could not see the cameras, there was no way to figure out where to direct a written note or message to alert the team to what was going on, or to help them find him.

Thankfully, Reid had finished what was on his plate. He didn't think he could swallow another bite, not after the news he'd heard.

There was, however, one last bit of hope.

"It'll take a few days for Gideon and the others to figure out I'm not at home," Reid reasoned aloud. "But when they do, they'll come looking for me…"

"I expected nothing less," Sienna replied. "And when they do, all roads will lead, far, far away from here. I think your friends need a little longer vacation—and a trip to Anchorage, Alaska in the search for you might be just the time they need…"

_Alaska?! Oh, God…where the hell __**am**__ I?!_


	6. Undressing a Treasure

Reid's heart sank.

_She's going to send them on a wild goose chase in hopes that they'll give up. Considering the time and effort she put in last time, plus what it took to build this place, she might just manage it…_

_I may be on my own this time._

A chill rose up the young man's spine, and it wasn't because of the temperature.

He focused his gaze across the table, at the young woman who seemed, for all intents and purposes to be perfectly lucid and rational.

_I have to get inside her head. If I can get an edge, __**any**__ kind of edge, maybe I can end this and save myself._

Picking up his fork again, he began picking at the green beans.

"It's cold in here," he said simply, acting as if her last comment had not affected him in the least.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"There's an answer for that," she said, and made her way out of the room.

As soon as she left, Reid quickly leapt from his seat. He began running his fingers along the countertops, searching the light fixtures overhead, checking all of the drawers. To his surprise, there were a few drawers that were locked tight; no amount of pulling would open them.

_What's she got in there?_ he wondered.

"Looking for something?" a voice echoed over his shoulder.

Startled, the young agent jumped at least a foot in the air. His hands instantly released the drawer handles and he stood as still as he could.

"Can't have you hurting yourself, Spencer," she cooed, tapping the faceplate on the drawer. "So the sharp objects need to be locked up."

_Terrific. No wonder I couldn't find the chopping block earlier._

"It's late," Sienna said finally. "It's been a long day. I'm going to turn in." She turned on her heel and sauntered down a hallway on the opposite side of the living room—one Reid had previously thought led to his laundry room. "Sleep well."

Once he heard the door close, he scoured every inch of the house—save the "punishment room," as Reid now thought of it. Wherever the cameras were hidden, they were hidden well.

_Maybe she's bluffing. Maybe there aren't any cameras at all._

_But then, past experience tells me that she's into the voyeuristic…_

He fought the urge to yawn. He was tired, all of a sudden.

_Maybe I'm just tired. _

_Or maybe she __**did**__ put something in the food…_

There was no way to know. Sienna wasn't the type who would give a straight answer, in any case. Reid had learned that lesson before.

Stumbling into his own room, he once again shut and locked the door. He wasn't in the mood for his captor to make a "surprise visit" while he slept.

_I'm going to lay down. I'm going to get some sleep. In the morning, I'll be focused and ready to work out a plan. Right now I feel like I could just collapse._

He quickly put on no less than three pairs of pajamas, planning ahead for the possibility that Sienna might just let herself in. He wasn't about to be without clothing, not if he could help it.

Flipping off the light, he was surprised to see a small nightlight turn itself on. He walked the six steps to the bed, pulled down the covers, and fell fast asleep.

* * *

The cold touch of metal woke Reid with a start.

"What the…" he began, faltering his words in his half-waking state, but his mind soon cleared when he saw what it was that woke him.

It was a knife. And not just any knife—it was a long eight inch double-edged dagger, custom made to fit a woman's hand.

"So peaceful," cooed a voice. "So handsome. So delicate. Are you awake, Spencer?" it asked.

Reid stared at the cold weapon, wide eyed. He nodded, his head tipping just a fraction of an inch.

"Good," she said. "You were right, you know. It _is_ cold in here…cold and lonely."

The blade trailed across the soft skin of his throat. "Are you lonely?"

Reid didn't move a muscle. He remained perfectly still, never taking his eyes off the young woman who was nearly on top of him. His breath came out in shallow, ragged gasps as he tried to control his growing fear.

"No matter, I suppose," she finished for him. In a silky voice, she said, "Come on, let's see you out of those covers…"

Swallowing hard, Reid moved very slowly in an effort to comply. The cold touch of metal never left his skin as Sienna trailed the blade up and down his skin.

"That's good," she said, almost purring like a contented cat. Swishing the blade towards the middle of the bed, she said "Now crawl up over here."

Shaking, the young man complied.

"So beautiful," she said, her eyes gazing at his features. Reid knew that look—it was one he hoped never to see again.

"Now take off those clothes," she said, letting the blade play over his shoulders, his back, and his abdomen as she circled his thin frame.

_Oh God. Not this again…_

The blade pressed into his skin harder. Reid gasped as he felt it bite into his flesh, drawing a small, thin line into the side of his torso. Tiny drops of blood began to form along the ridge of the cut, attempting to repair the damage that had been done.

"Take them off," she said, her voice hardening just a little.

Fighting off the wave of nausea and humiliation that was washing over him in gulfs, Reid quickly moved his fingers toward the hem of his first pajama top.

_Good thing I put on three layers,_ he thought.

"No," Sienna said sharply. In a more seductive tone, she said, "Take them off _very_ slowly. I want a _good_ view of your 'performance.'"

_Dear God,_ he thought. _She's going to make me 'put on a show…'_

_And if I don't, that blade will most definitely find a home inside my skin…_

Reid fought back tears of shame as he tried to comply with Sienna's 'request.' He worked off all three layers of pajama top, then slowly worked off the pants portions.

"Go on, show yourself off," she said softly. "Don't hide those beautiful features on my account."

Reid knew what she wanted him to do, and the thought of having to do it was unbearable to him.

_But I don't have a choice._

Willing his hands to comply with his captor's demand, he let his fingertips trail up his skinny legs, work their way over his thin torso, and run up his arms. He did this ever so slowly, heightening his own disgust and his tormentor's sick pleasure.

"Oooh. Very, very nice, Spencer," she cooed in delight. "Now let's get rid of those boxers, shall we?" The blade ran across his waist, nicking at the elastic of the waistbands and at the soft flesh around his middle.

Reid felt his tears, hot and stinging, trail down his cheeks as he complied with Sienna's demand. He could feel his fingers unwillingly removing the last shred of modesty he had left, leaving him completely exposed and in full view of the woman who seemed to be grotesquely infatuated with him.

"Now stand up, very slowly, and turn around," she said. "I want to get a good view of everything there is to offer…"

The young man felt like he was on display again, only this time in some sick sort of Chippendales show. He turned slowly, clenching his eyes closed as Sienna drank in the sight of his naked form.

"Oh. Oh, oh, oh….lovely," she breathed. "Simply lovely. Now, come closer…I want to get the 'full experience."

_Christ!_

Reid froze.

"Come now, don't be shy…"


	7. Firestarter

**Hello all you happy readers! I hope the layout of this chapter isn't hard to follow...**

**Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine. I'd think by now we'd all get that.**

* * *

Reid stared up at the ceiling above the bed where he lay.

_It's been three days,_ he thought to himself as he stared at a small crack that worked its way across from the hanging light fixture towards the space above the headboard. He would have gotten up, but the shackle around his left wrist kept him in his current position. The other end of the chain was attached to the brass bars making up the headboard.

He turned his head towards the window. The familiar sight of crumbling buildings assaulted his warm eyes.

He recalled the first night he'd spent in this bed; how after his "performance" for his insane captor he'd had to "prove" himself to her. Reid had spent much of the next day in the bathroom, scrubbing the scent of Sienna off of his skin and trying hard to keep down the little he had eaten.

_If only, if only_, Reid thought. _If only I could convince her I wasn't trying to run off…if only I could get inside that completely twisted brain of hers…if only there were some way, __**any**__ way, to get a message out…_

_But then, that's the reason you're chained to the bed, now isn't it, genius?_ The admonishment, though self-ascribed, made Reid scowl. _Seems Morgan and Emily were right about one thing—the superior intellect line upstairs must have been a bypass that skipped the common sense one…_

_And yet, those matches __**could **__have done the trick…_

* * *

On the third day of his captivity, Reid had decided to try something just this side of desperate. The previous day, after he finally left the bathroom, he spent what little time he had left to himself incessantly searching every room of the "apartment" looking for the tiny cameras. It bothered him that he was being watched, just as he had been in that dark oubliette in Michigan, and not necessarily by his friends and colleagues.

_I am not about to become the freak show attraction for this woman,_ he had thought angrily. _Not this time._

The search proved fruitless, but Reid did manage to come across one valuable weapon during his scavenging—a small book of matches. Tucking the tiny firestarters into his pocket, he tried to act a combination of bored and nonchalant when he heard the sound of the lock being thrown in the front door.

"Honey, I'm home," a voice had called out. It was one that made the young agent wince.

"In here."

It sickened him, the thought of having to play along, but this time there wasn't a choice. He thought of his earlier "punishment" in the parquet-floored room and felt his stomach turn into a myriad of knots.

_I won't become her 'whipping boy,' _he decided. _Which means I'm going to have to play along until I can find a way to get out of this nightmare…_

"So what were you up to today?" Sienna had asked, lazily throwing a few things into a frying pan. "I should really start leaving a list of things to do for you, so something at least gets done…"

"Those windows…they could use a cleaning," Reid had said, his voice faltering just a little. It was becoming harder to 'pretend' that he was happy living like a caged animal with a psychotic 'keeper.'

_At least Koko the gorilla gets to see other people and socialize, _he'd thought. _All I get is the crazy woman._

"You think?" Sienna had said, taking a moment to study the three-inch-thick plastic.

"Yes. It's hard to see out of them…"

"Not really much to see, is there?"

Reid had let his head fall; his eyes had fixated on a black tile in the linoleum. "I guess not."

"Eh. It'll give you something to do, I guess. Go ahead and clean them tomorrow while I'm gone."

Reid had swallowed hard, carefully choosing his next few words.

"Where…where is it you go, every day?"

Sienna had bored a hole in his forehead with her eyes. "None of your damn business," she'd spat.

The young agent once again fixated his eyes on the floor.

Angered, the woman had hastily thrown something on a plate and sat it in front of Reid. It looked like stir-fry; the carrots and pea pods mixing with some sort of white substance.

"Hurry up and eat," she'd snapped. "Ungrateful bastard."

Not wanting to continue to raise his captor's ire, the young agent began eating the meal at top speed.

_If I give her time to settle down, maybe she'll forget about me for a few minutes, _he had reasoned. He ran his fingertips along the top of the matchbook. _Maybe then I can find something to start a fire with..._

* * *

A couple of hours later, Sienna had fallen fast asleep.

_Wherever she went, it knocked her out. Good. Now to find some kindling—old newsprint, cardboard; hell, at this point I'd settle for a birthday candle if it means lighting this place up._

Though in the back of his mind he knew it was an extremely risky and possibly dangerous move on his part, Reid rationalized that he didn't have much choice. His teammates were now somewhere probably in the South Arctic by now, and no one else would think to look for him.

_When I get out of here, I'm putting in a request for Hotch to have me electronically tagged or something, _Reid had thought_. I am getting tired of the crazy people just whisking me away to some remote part of hell that I have to claw my way out of with sheer will and months of massive therapy._

_Let them take Morgan for a change._

Finally, after nearly two hours of searching, the young doctor found exactly what it was he was looking for—a scrap of paper. Tucked inside Sienna's coat pocket was a small blank tablet containing nearly three dozen sheets of paper.

Quietly, Reid scampered into 'his' bedroom and began lining the windowsill with the sheets of paper, which had been crumpled loosely.

_Please, God, let this work…_

Taking one of the matches out of the tiny book, he struck it, emitting a flame on the tip of the waxed paper. Reid had turned the flame towards the paper, watching as it curled and smoked on the sill.

"Come on, come on…" he'd muttered. "Damn it, _catch…"_

Finally, there was a small spark. A single splinter had been left unprotected by fire-retardant coating on the wood, and it burned merrily on the sill.

"Yes!"

The cry of joy had been just a _little_ too loud.

"What the hell do you think you're _doing?!_" the voice screeched, wielding a fire extinguisher and dousing the tiny glow of hope that was now doused in white chemicals.

_Think fast…_

"I…I was trying to get some air?"

A backhand had followed that meager explanation.

"Air, eh? There's going to be a lot of 'air' where you're going…"

And despite his flailing limbs that tried to kick and shove the incensed woman away, Reid found himself dragged to the bed, stripped down to nothing, and chained to it.

"Hope you enjoy the smell of smoke, Spencer," she'd spat. "I should punish you more thoroughly, but I'm just not up to it right now."

* * *

_And that was three days ago,_ Reid thought. His stomach growled incessantly, and even the sight of water was enough to make him feel a need to use a bathroom. Sienna allowed him off the bed twice a day to swallow a glass of water and relieve himself, but the remaining twenty-three and a half hours he was stuck staring at the same four walls.

There was a part of Reid that wanted to scream, as long and as loud as he could. However, he soon realized that would be pointless—the walls were more than likely soundproof, as the windows were.

Sienna never spoke to him, not a word since he'd tried to start the fire. His head pounded from the lack of food and he wanted more than anything to be able to see more than the white of the walls and the red tile of the bathroom for more than three minutes.

_Well, that seals it, _the young doctor thought. _I am definitely going to have to play her game if I want to get out of this. _

_Although, compliance doesn't always work with her…_

Thinking about the night of the "performance," he shuddered, pulling the thin sheet he'd been allowed to keep over his bare form.

_There's got to be another way. There has to be, for the sake of my sanity, and my dignity…and quite possibly, my life…_


	8. The Last Picture Show

**So the last half of this chap isn't mine; it was given to me ever so kindly by the brilliant Addicted Archangel, with consensus from the very talented LoveThief. Thanks to both, and hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine. --Duh.--**

* * *

It had been five days since Reid was chained to the headboard of 'his' bed.

It had been nearly nine days since he'd woken up in his color-coordinated and patterned hell.

His head pounded. Reid couldn't remember the last thing he'd ate, and even if he could, he figured he had probably thrown it up by now.

The young man shivered. Sienna had deliberately turned down the heat in the tiny room, making it impossible to keep warm with nothing but a thin sheet separating him from the persistent chill.

_I would __**love**__ a pair of flannel boxers right now,_ he thought.

_That and eighteen pieces of peanut butter toast._

A growl escaped from his violently protesting insides. Reid was certain that he'd lost at least twenty pounds due to the forced starvation.

_I lose any more weight and I'll certainly freeze to death. _

He was tired. Tired of being treated like some sort of object that was to be taken out for a deranged woman's amusement and then locked in a closet somewhere when not needed.

There were the faint sounds of footsteps in the hallway. Reid took note of the gentle _slap-slap_ sound those slippers made.

Screwing up his courage, Reid called out, "Hey! Either let me out of here or just kill me, why don't you? A few more days of this, and it won't really matter…"

The footsteps quickened. There was a sharp strike to the door, followed by a shout.

"You want out of there? Then you had better apologize."

_That's it? Apologize? Okay…_

"I'm…I'm sorry, Sienna."

"For what?"

"For trying to escape. For trying to destroy what should be our home. For not appreciating what it is you do for me." The bile in his throat rose higher with every sentence he spoke.

There was a pause. Finally the door opened.

"Very well. I accept."

She strode over and produced a small key; within a few moments his wrist was released and he could sit up. The first thing Reid did was begin walking over to the closet to put on some clothes.

"Who told you you could get dressed?" Sienna said, her voice rising.

Reid stopped, staring.

"I said, who told you you could get dressed?"

"I just…"

"Oh, you thought that was it, huh? I let you off the bed and everything's okay, right?"

Reid didn't know what to say to this. He was still staring at Sienna, trying hard not to shiver too much or to let go of his sheet.

"Drop the sheet."

Reid clung tighter, and ever so slowly took a step closer toward the closet.

"Fine. Go ahead—there's nothing in there."

In disbelief, Reid threw open the closet door. There was nothing inside but a few plastic hangers and a short length of stray thread.

"How…"

"You sleep like a log. When you're dreaming, you make so much noise that a full-blown army of elephants could hear you."

He stared at his captor, now clutching the sheet wrapped around him as if his life depended on it.

Sienna walked over to the top dresser drawer and produced a small digital camera. She let her hands flitter over a few buttons and the device crackled and whirred brightly.

"Yeah, the apology was just for my benefit. I figured it was about time you put yourself to a more 'interesting' use."

"No, Sienna. I won't let you…"

"_Won't_ let me? Take a look around, Spencer. Do you really think you're in any position to tell me I _can't_?"

Eyes widened, Reid realized that she was right. He also realized that even if he managed to get himself out of this room, she'd simply inflict her will on him in another—perhaps even the 'punishment' room.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked softly. It didn't really matter to him at this point if the answer was evasive and Iago-like in nature.

"Why?" Sienna parroted. "Because, Spencer. Because I think you are absolutely beautiful. Because it pains you deeply to open yourself up to me. Because I think I may be in love with you. Because _I can._ Now, get up on the bed and get rid of the sheet, or I may decide we need to head into another, more personal, room for these shots…"

Reid let the thin cloth fall to the floor at once. He remembered the last time he'd "apologized" to her in front of a camera.

_Is there any sort of humiliation she isn't willing to put me through? Any scrap of dignity she'll allow me to keep?_

As he sat on the bed, placing his limbs into various positions chosen by the insane woman with the camera, he tried not to let the tears of humiliation show too much.

The last time, in the oubliette, had been bad.

This time was even worse.

"That's good", Sienna quipped as she let the camera click repeatedly. "Now lay back and bend one knee towards your chest and put your arms over your head; hold on to the headboard. Yeah, like that. Now put your tongue out! Tease me!"

Reid felt nauseous as he complied with Sienna's "instructions", all the while trying to mentally block out the situation he was in.

_What is she going to do with these pictures? Oh, God – please don't let her put them on the internet..._

After a few more changes of position, Sienna smiled and put the camera in her pocket. "All right, sweetheart. Move yourself off the bed and into the bathroom. I want to get some nice shots of you in the bathtub."

Reid froze.

_The bathtub? No... Not there!_

"Sienna..." he began. "I can't... I _won't_ go into the bathroom."

The young woman looked at him, superiority in her eyes. "Oh, yes, you will."

"No. I refuse to go in there." He propped himself on the bed, grabbing a pillow to shield himself with.

Sienna pursed her mouth and sighed. "Well then." Reaching into her back pocket, she pulled out a palm-sized black device and held it in her hand.

"Do you _really_ think you have _anything_ to say when it comes to making a decision, Spencer?" The annoyance in her voice was more than obvious as she slightly waved the device before her.

Reid remained silent. Not quite knowing what the deranged woman had in her hand, he prefered not to anger her at this moment.

"You will do _as_ I say, _when_ I say it – haven't you learned that yet?" She held the device in front of her and squeezed it tightly. The jumping blue spark danced between its conductors, emitting a strong buzzing sound that made Reid shudder.

_A stun gun? Is she insane?! _

_Well, yes, actually, I think we've already established that pretty well..._

"Now move." The chipper tone in Sienna's voice had been replaced with sheer determination.

Reid realized there was no use in arguing with the demented woman. He slowly slid out of bed, not letting go of the pillow he clutched over his most personal parts. Not that there was any use in hiding them anymore. They had been exposed on so many occasions, Reid had nearly forgotten what being covered in those areas felt like.

"Lose the pillow and move it!" Sienna was getting annoyed. Reid didn't want her getting annoyed, so he quickly let the pillow fall to the floor and swiftly moved himself out into the hallway towards the bathroom.

_Aren't you done with this yet? Just leave me alone, you crazy bitch! _

_Sorry, Mom, _he hastily added. _I know I shouldn't say that, but I think you'd agree that right now this is one of those 'exceptions.'_

Opening the door, he stepped onto the cold tiles. The reflection in the mirror across the room made him shake. His face was paler than ever, and his eyes had even darker rings under them. But what caught his eye the most was how sunken in his cheeks were.

He nearly resembled a skeleton.

"Good boy, Spencer!" The chipper tone had returned as Sienna once again had the small camera in her hand. "Into the tub! I ran a bath for you earlier; now go on and make yourself pretty for the camera!"

Motioning him to get into the whirlpool, she readied the camera and began snapping pictures of him the moments his toes hit the surface.

_Maybe I can hide under the surface..._

"No, don't sit down!" Sienna shook her head as Reid tried to submerge himself in the steaming hot water. "Face me, put your hands on the edge and lean over. Just like that. Now spreak your legs and look straight into the camera."

Licking her lips as Reid moved to comply, she snapped a few more candid shots. "Just like that... Oh, Spencer – you have no idea how gorgeous you are. Soak yourself. I want to see you all wet and drippy."

Blissfully, Reid let himself sink below the surface. Holding his breath, he wished he could stay there forever and never return to the nightmare waiting on the other side of the water. His wish was abruptly yanked from him as a hand gripped his hair, pulling his head over the surface.

"That's enough. Now stand up. I want to look at you."

Reid stood up, water dripping off his tousled curls down onto his face. The tears he shed were conveniently hidden by the water drizzling along his cheeks.

The thoughtful look on Sienna's face made him wince.

_Oh God. What is she thinking about now? Haven't I been humiliated enough?_

"You know..." she began, rubbing her chin. "I've always had an aversion to hair. At least hair that's not on the head. And you know what – _that's_ a little too much for my taste." Grabbing a razor and a bottle of shaving cream, she handed it to Reid who sheepishly took them.

"What am I supposed to...?" Then it dawned on him.

_No! She can't be serious!_

"Sienna, I'm not… You expect me to shave..._there_?!" The panic was rather obvious as his voice cracked.

"Yes. And you will, unless you want me to get angry. Do you _want_ me to get angry?" She lifted an eyebrow and looked at him inquiringly.

Reid knew that look well. It wasn't a question.

Slowly, he squeezed out some foam in his hand, and began rubbing it over what little hair he had below his belly button. As tears streamed down his face, he managed to see clear enough not to cut himself as he let the razor slide over the nearly smooth skin.

_She's insane. She's depraved. What kind of perverted pleasure can she get out of this?! And she's __**still **__taking pictures!_

The camera went _snap_ every now and then, until Sienna decided he was smooth enough.

"Okay, that's good. Now rinse off and stand up."

Complying, Reid soon stood before her, knee deep in water, smooth as the day he was born. The humiliation he had felt in the cold, dark cell a year ago had been _nothing_ compared to this. He couldn't meet her eyes, but looked at the floor.

"Now, Spencer, I want to watch you. Show me what you can do."

Reid stood as frozen. The though of having to 'show himself off' again to his psychotically insane captor made him want to vomit right where he stood.

"Go on."

The young doctor slowly let his hands wander over his torso, squeezing his eyes shut. Every faint touch and gentle brush of his fingertips sent waves of nausea into his head and stomach. He wanted nothing more than to pass out right where he stood, if only to be relieved from this hell.

"Lower."

His hands dropped to his stomach, stroking the soft skin and bones protruding from his emaciated body.

"Go lower. Work it for me."

As his hands fell below his waist, Reid could no longer hold his tears to a quiet sob, but broke out crying. He could feel his hands moving around his parts, but didn't want to consciously realize he was doing it.

"Now get off." Holding the camera in front of her face, Sienna smiled as she watched the man before her, stroking every inch of his body.

But that was the last straw for the young doctor. He was _**not**_ about to give her that satisfaction. He was not going to do that, not in front of the camera, not ever again!

"No! No, Sienna – I won't! That's it!" he yelled. "I _will not_ be your lap dog anymore!"

Not three seconds passed before Sienna had dropped the camera in the laundry hamper and stepped up beside the tub.

"You'll do as I tell you, Spencer Reid!"

"No!" Reid's voice cracked as he cried through the tears.

Taking one step back, Sienna pulled out the stun gun, holding it in front of her. "Spencer..."

Reid suddenly realized that opposing a insane woman with a stun gun while standing knee-deep in water might not have been the best idea he'd ever come up with. Before he even had the chance to open his mouth to apologize or say anything, however, Sienna was already at the tub.

Pushing the stun gun into his abdomen, she squeezed it tightly.

The pain was indescribable. The electricity shot through every inch of his body, making him jerk uncontrollably. He screamed in agony as he fell back into the tub, his head crashing against the tiles before he slipped down under the water, unconscious.

Sienna turned the stun gun off as she placed it back in her back pocket. "Why don't you just listen to me, Spencer? You're supposed to be a genius, for Christ's sake." She reached into the tub, grabbing the young man by the arms. "Haven't you gotten it through that well filled brain of yours that you _always_ listen to the crazy lady!?"

She hauled him out of the tub, and he landed on the tile floor with a dull thud. Turning the young doctor over on his stomach, she banged her fist on his back a few times before he began coughing and spitting up water.

Sienna rose as she brushed off some of the water clinging to her clothes. "Maybe you learned something this time." Grabbing the camera from the hamper, she took a towel from a hanger. "Cover yourself up. You're pathetic." She threw the towel on the young man struggling on the floor and left the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Reid tried to sit up, but his sore and aching form simply would not allow it. Pulling the towel over his body, he curled up into a fetal position, still shaking from the shock and the pain still lingering in his body.

_Good God, _he thought feverishly._ I have __**got **__to get out of here!_


	9. Iocaine Powder?

**Written by me, betaed by AA, and now yours for the incredibly low price of...FREE!**

**Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine. --begins to sing "We're in the imaginary money...--**

* * *

Reid lay on the cold tiles a long time, imagining the red in each square being a measure of his own blood.

_I could be dead now. I could be lying dead, talking to myself in the hereafter, and I'm not sure if I could tell the difference._

He tried to sit up, and the overpowering ache that still racked his limbs definitely told him that he remained among the living.

_Okay, Spencer,_ he chided himself. _Think. If you don't come up with some way to get yourself out of here, that crazed woman will do if for you—and you'll end up in a box instead of on your own feet._

He thought about trying for help, but he realized that even if the team realized their mistake the second they got off the plane, it would still take nearly a day to fly back from Alaska.

_Even if they did figure out the mistake, they're still probably at my real apartment, wondering why on earth I've left all my things and disappeared…_

Reid's head hurt. His stomach growled uncontrollably. He made to move one of his legs to try and get up, and the sight of his wasted limbs made him begin to cry.

_Okay. You're going to get off this floor. You're going to find something in this room that can be used against her, hopefully long enough so you can find a way out of the door. You're going to walk down to the living room, and find some way to get dressed._

_And while I'm at it, I might as well put in for a two month vacation to Scotland, _he thought bitterly.

Ignoring the pain that crept through his legs, the young man pushed his aching limbs underneath him and tried to stand. It took every ounce of willpower not to scream in agony as he did so.

He clutched the basin of the sink to steady himself.

_So far, so good._

He saw a small wooden cupboard in the far right corner. Reid took slow, careful steps towards it so as not to lose his balance or anger his already protesting limbs.

_What's in here, I wonder? _he thought. _Cyanide? Arsenic? Antidepressants? Iocaine powder?_

A small smile crept over Reid's face as he suppressed a chuckle at the last item.

_I really have __**got**__ to stop watching The Princess Bride…_

His eyes wandered over the labels. Sienna kept quite a stock—ibuprofen, acetaminophen, Valium, Xanax, paralytics. There was even a midsized vial of pure morphine.

_I'm not sure I want to know why she's got that…_

Reid reached out and grabbed the two bottles of paralytics. Each contained about ten pills in them.

_If I can find a way to crush these, maybe I could slip them in something, _he thought.

Sliding the bottles into the folds of the small towel, Reid gingerly walked towards the bathroom door and opened it.

* * *

"Hello?" Reid called out weakly. "Is anyone there?"

There was no answer. Wherever his deranged captor was, she wasn't in the apartment, and that was just fine with him.

Reid took a deep breath, and forced himself to search every closet within reach in search of clothes. After nearly three hours, the only things he could find were a thin silk robe that had been laid out on the end of the couch, a lone sock, a neon-pink thong that had been dropped just outside of Sienna's room, and a gauzy white shift dress that looked like it could swallow the poor man in one fell swoop.

_Terrific,_ he mused. _My only choices are a see-through robe or a dress._

Wincing in disgust, he draped the thin robe over his shoulders. It covered all the places that needed covering, but the design of the garment left very little to the imagination.

He slid the small bottles of contraband into one of the robe's pockets, and then went into the kitchen to find something to crush the tablets with.

_I'd better make this quick. If she walks in and finds out what I'm doing…_

Reid swallowed hard at that thought.

There was little to work with in the kitchen. Anything sharp was locked away; anything of any substance was kept somewhere Reid didn't have access to.

Except the frying pan. Reid grabbed the object and began to test its heft in his hands.

_I hate to admit it, but right now I could kiss her,_ he thought. _A cast iron pan…_

He sat down at the uncovered table, laid out his precious contraband, and began to grind the pills into a fine powder. Once he finished, he carefully scooped the powder into one of the small bottles, cleaned up any trace of evidence pointing to what he'd done, and then went slowly out of the room to go and sit on the couch.

_I'll have to play along with her once she gets in, _he thought. _This time, though, I'm going to try and take the lead on the suggestions. Maybe she'll go for it._

_I hope to God she goes for it…_

He settled on the stiff couch cushions, and began to wait.


	10. How Spencer Got His Sanity Back

**It's been betaed, it's been previewed, and it comes with the Addicted Archangel seal-of-approval! (Thanks doll!)**

**Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine. But I want the dinner I made in here...**

* * *

"Well, don't you look fetching," sang Sienna as she sauntered in. "Makes me wish I hadn't taken those pictures out for processing…"

Reid forced himself to look relaxed. The bile threatening to pour out of his mouth was making that feat rather difficult.

He chose his next few words carefully. "It's been a long couple of days," he began. "Why don't you go in and take a bath and I'll make dinner? Something special, just for two…" He deliberately trailed the end of his sentence, hoping she'd warm up to the idea.

"Mmm. A bath sounds lovely. It _has_ been a busy day…"

The young man let the ghost of a seductive smile play across his lips. "I think I know just the thing to take your mind off of that," he said, trailing his fingers along the back of the couch ever so slowly. He noticed that her eyes were fixated on the actions of his limbs.

"You do? Common knowledge or a surprise?"

Reid studied the floor in an attempt to play 'hard-to-get.'

"Well, I _could_ tell you…but…" He flashed that mischievous smile again. "All I could really say is, do we have any wine?"

"Mmm. I like the sound of where this is going, sweetness." Sienna studied the barely clothed young man with an appraiser's eye. Finally she smiled a little herself.

"I assume you're going to need something sharp, and possibly a pan or two…"

Reid flipped his hand casually. "Of course."

The woman stood there another minute, as if trying to decide whether or not to trust her exquisite captive with such weaponry. She wove the fine links of a chain through her fingers—a chain that held a small skeleton key.

A few more minutes passed. Neither one said a word.

"Come now, Sienna," Reid began, trying to make himself sound as alluring as possible. "You would really not let me make tonight…_special _for you?"

Sienna gave the young agent the once over again. Reid could feel her eyes stopping at various points over his form and just letting her eyes relish the sight. It made his skin crawl.

At last her fingers stopped moving. "Very well, let's see what you have planned," she said brightly, handing over the wrought-iron key. "Don't get any ideas, though—that key only works in the kitchen."

And with that, Sienna sauntered off towards the bathroom, humming a wordless tune.

_Finally,_ Reid thought as he walked into the kitchen.

* * *

"I must say, your cooking doesn't disappoint," praised Sienna. She had finished that last of the pheasant and was beginning to shell a few of the miniature oysters Reid had placed in a chilled bowl in the middle of the table. "That pheasant was absolutely wonderful."

Reid forced himself to continue staring into Sienna's eyes. "I learned how in college," he said, keeping his tone conversational. "I had a professor who was crazy about gourmet cooking. It sounded like something I might like, so I took lessons from him. Last I heard, he's running a little place in a four-star hotel in Toronto and enjoying every minute."

"With recipes like this, I'm not surprised," she said, closing her eyes as he reached in to 'feed' her another oyster. "Oh, my God," she cried after she'd downed the grayish creature. "I can see why they call these things aphrodisiacs…"

"Yeah," said Reid, his face saying that he was completely into the idea but his insides revolting like French peasantry during the Reign of Terror. He casually leaned back into his chair, careful to only let his robe fall open just a little, and reached for his wine glass.

"I propose a toast," he said. "To a new beginning. Everyone deserves one, don't they?" He smiled, very, very seductively.

"I'll second that," she smiled, and took a healthy sip from the glass. "Mmm. Merlot. Is there any other type of wine?"

"I'd have preferred champagne, but the merlot's not bad." Privately, Reid wanted to vomit. Though the food was indeed wonderful—it always was when he cooked—he couldn't stand even the tiniest bit of alcohol in his food-deprived stomach. He'd had to eat very slowly to avoid making himself sick, and it was hard considering he really wanted to devour the entire dinner himself.

Reid let his fork dance over his romaine-lettuce salad, the Italian dressing glazing over the dark green leaves and the large croutons and the little bits of carrot and radish. "I should apologize," he said, trying to make his voice sound sincere. "I was awful to you in those first few days, wasn't I?"

Sienna's head tipped a little. "Yeah, you were."

"I really didn't understand, is all. That time I was alone in the bathroom, today? I was really able to put things into perspective." He brought his head in closer towards hers, being mindful of the salad and the pheasant bones that stood in the way.

"And what did you conclude?" cooed Sienna, clearly enjoying every bit of the attention being lavished on her.

"That this is exactly where I need to be. Here, with you."

"So, no more fighting?"

"Fighting? No, no more. Unless, of course, you hog all the blankets…" Reid forcibly bit back the violent retch that demanded to escape after he said that.

"Spencer…are you saying….?"

"Mmm-hmm." He was careful to flash that mischievous smile again.

"We could get started now, leave the mess for tomorrow…"

"Not yet. I think I'd like to finish my glass of wine first."

Sienna eased back into her own chair. "Good idea. I think I'll pour us both another."

Reid lifted his glass, holding it close. "I'm fine, thanks. I never was a big drinker—can't perform well on my own two feet after one glass, let alone elsewhere…" Again, he let the sentence trail deliberately, hoping Sienna would take the hint.

She did.

"Sienna?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you…do you think it would be all right if I could get some air?"

A dark expression flashed across the woman's face.

"It would help loosen me up," Reid hastily explained. "The dinner, the wine, and some air--a perfect combination, or so people have told me."

"Really?" Her tone was a cross between skeptical and interested.

"Mmm-hmm."

Sienna stood up, a thoughtful look masking her features.

_Please, God, just go with it, _Reid silently begged. _Let me crack just one little window, just in case the rest of the plan goes to hell…_

Suddenly a twinkling smile graced her lips. "I can do better than that," she cooed, and extended her hand for Reid to take.

The young agent followed his besotten captor as she took him through the left hallway and into 'her' room—the room that was always locked. Once inside, Reid noticed what Sienna meant. There was a patio balcony that extended out from a bay window in the room, giving her an incredible view—even though the view was marred by old industrial buildings and crumbling structures.

"Twelve floors up gives one quite the view, doesn't it?" she asked.

Reid was too busy taking in the first breaths of fresh air that he'd been allowed in nine days.

_I really don't want to go back inside_, he thought. _Not because I don't want to do what she's expecting me to do with her, but because I may never get the chance to take in fresh air again if I'm not careful._

"Ooooh." Sienna raised a hand to her head, her expression turning concerned.

"What's wrong?"

"I-I'm not…feeling so…ooh," she replied, her voice getting fainter with every word.

"Well, that won't do. Here, let me take you in and we'll lie down, okay?"

"O-okay," she said. Looking up at Reid, she held a look in her eyes that almost made Reid feel a little guilty for what he was doing to her.

Almost.

It took some effort to get Sienna inside and onto her bed, but by the time the drugs kicked in, she was lying immobile on the silk sheets and nearly unconscious.

_Thank God for that class in pharmacology,_ Reid said to himself.

He tucked her in and closed the door, managing to sneak the key to the room from around her neck. The years of sleight-of-hand paid off.

_That's done, _he thought. _Now to worry about that door…_


	11. The Great Escape

**Okay folks, so this is that point in the story where things begin to wrap themselves up. I'm pondering an epilogue of sorts--please let me know if this is something I should consider. That said, I hope you all enjoy the chapter!**

**Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine; otherwise I'd be watching this Wednesdays' episode right now...**

* * *

Reid knew his timeline. He had, at best, about ten or twelve hours to figure out how to get that scientific barrier of a door to open for him.

_If it takes any longer, there'll be no point anymore. She'll have me diced to ribbons and put in a long, narrow box, _he thought grimly.

There were, however, some other things that needed attending. For one, trying to make an escape to the outside world in a robe that would definitely qualify as "borderline indecent"…

Reid looked over across the couch back for his only other option—the white shift dress.

_Why couldn't she have left me a pair of pants? I'd have even gone without the shirt…_

_Oh well. You do what you have to, I suppose…_

And with that thought, he took off the thin robe, replacing it with the floor-length shift. It was like pulling on a really, really long nightshirt, he reasoned. One with lace trimming on all the openings and showing off all the wrong places…

_Focus. Get the door open._

Clad in the white garment, Reid then took the robe with him as a means of covering his hands while he tried to open the door. He gingerly tested his theory by folding the cloth into several sections and then placing his left hand in the middle of them, so that when he leaned up against the door frame the cloth prevented his hands from touching the sensitive metal.

Grasping the doorknob, Reid inhaled sharply.

_Here goes nothing…_

Reid turned the doorknob, which, as before, unlatched the lock but still presented the problem of pulling the tightly wedged door open. Leaning heavily on the cloth, Reid tried pulling the heavy barrier free from its position with all his might.

The door didn't budge. Not even an inch.

Resolutely, Reid tried again. This time he braced his feet on the wood flooring and used every inch of his frame to combat the stubbornness of the steel door blocking his exit.

The door still wouldn't move. Two hours had passed, and Reid was still trapped inside his ornate prison.

_This isn't working. _

Though he was reluctant to do so, Reid abandoned the idea of forcing the door open. There was simply no way to make it open without touching it.

_I could drag Sienna out here and use her to open it, _he thought fleetingly.

_Yeah, and if she hasn't figured out what you're doing already, genius, she'll certainly figure it out when you do that…_

Another hour passed. Reid had taken stock of all the exits available to him. The windows were unbreakable. The door was wedged tight and rigged to lock if he so much as brushed a finger on it. The floors were solid, and the ceilings were as well.

_There's only one way out of here,_ Reid realized.

_And it means I have to escape right in front of her…_

* * *

It had taken another hour to gather up all of the linens that were available in the house. Reid was grateful that Sienna had bought the king-sized beds at this juncture—they provided more cloth to work with.

The line of linens was growing. He had tied all the sheets, the towels, even the tiny things like dishrags and pillowcases together to make the world's longest sheet-rope.

Grabbing the end of his creation, Reid took one last deep breath before turning the lock on Sienna's room.

He entered and found her in the same position he'd left her in four hours earlier—on her back, immobilized and unable to move. As a precautionary method, Reid had gone into her "punishment room" and availed himself of several pairs of handcuffs. He fastened one end of each pair onto each of Sienna's wrists and ankles, and then fastened the other around the bars in the iron bed frame.

"Let's see how you like being tied down for a change," he said with a trace of satisfaction in his voice.

Sienna didn't reply. She didn't move. She didn't _blink._

Wasting no time, Reid heaved the giant sheet-rope out of the bay window, over the balcony and tied it off. The length dangled about halfway between the balcony and a nearby fire ladder.

Hoisting himself over the railing, Reid latched onto the sheet-rope, hoping against all hope that it wouldn't untie itself or give way while he was dangling from it. Using very slow movements, he managed to shimmy himself down the procession of linens and make himself parallel with the fire ladder.

Bracing one foot flush with the cement wall, Reid bounced himself a few times to get a momentum going. Once he was certain, he angled his next bounce to swing him closer to the fire ladder. He missed on the first try by about a foot.

On the second try, Reid managed to miss it by a half-foot.

On the third try, his foot grazed the rails of the ladder.

On the fourth try, Reid reached out and tried to grab the rungs of the ladder, missing by mere centimeters.

On the fifth try, the sheet rope gave just a little. _Don't break on me now,_ he pleaded with his lifeline silently.

On the sixth try, Reid caught the topmost rung. Holding tightly, he forced his aching limbs to grab onto the metal, letting his cloth savior fall parallel to the wall.

_Flying Wallendas, eat your hearts out, _he thought.

After reaching the ground, Reid gave the street the once-over.

_Wouldn't do to go through all that and be caught by one of her 'friends,' now would it? _he thought grimly.

To his immense relief, there was no one. Not even the faint whisper of a breeze welcomed him back to the land of reality.

The young agent saw a nearby bench sitting across from where his sheet-rope hung limply above him. He didn't realize just how tired he really was—the push of adrenaline had sent all of his focus on overdrive, and now that he was free of that horrible prison, he felt as if he wanted to collapse. He sank into the rusted metal seat, not caring that it was tearing holes in his long white shift.

There was a loud sound coming closer. Reid paid it little mind. He was too busy trying to sort though his emotions. The overwhelming relief of being free of Sienna's grasp was battling with the memories of the abuse he'd suffered at her hands, and the memories were threatening to claim victory and send him into a torrent of tears and uncontrolled sobs. Every so often he would look at the garment covering his legs and another surge of shame would crawl through his veins, reminding him that this time things had sunk to a much more personal level than they had in Michigan.

The sound grew louder, echoing off the crumbling structures and reverberating into the empty street. Within moments, no less than eight vehicles pulled up next to the building across from where Reid sat.

One of the vehicles opened out, and a few familiar faces spilled out.

"You're sure he's here?" came one voice.

"Has Garcia ever been wrong?"

"Well, no, but…"

"Okay—we know Reid's in there, and so is the Nolan woman…" This voice began giving instructions on who was going in, and with whom, and how.

"Guys," a softer voice said, looking up towards the sky.

Five pairs of eyes looked toward the heavens.

"Son of a bitch."

"Huh."

"Reid…"

Reid smiled only slightly as this revelation occurred to his colleagues. Finally he could stay silent no longer. "Over here," he called out.

The next thing he knew the relieved faces of his team, with the exception of Morgan and Hotch, had surrounded him. The latter two had gone to storm the 'apartment,' knowing full well that Sienna wouldn't stop unless she was caught.

"Are you okay?" Emily asked.

"Okay?"

"Bad question. Are you hurt?"

"A little. Nothing that can't be patched."

"I hope they get that woman," JJ spat. "Do you know where she sent us, looking for you?"

"Anchorage, Alaska?"

Both women looked straight at him, as did Gideon, who had waited nearby to find out the results of the raid.

"Sienna told me. She was pretty proud of herself, too, thinking she had me and no one could find where she'd gone."

"Reid," Gideon said, a little more gently than Emily had. "Are you okay?"

Reid thought about that for a minute. Emily had been asking about his physical well-being, and that was easy to determine. Gideon, however, was looking into those parts of Reid that he knew Sienna was likely to target and systematically destroy.

He swallowed hard. "Right now, yes."

Gideon tipped his head, a small frown crossing his face. Reid hadn't wanted to give specifics, but his mentor had understood.

Just then Hotch and Morgan walked over. Hotch's face was so hard Reid thought he could crack walnuts with it, and Morgan…well, the younger man was letting forth a tirade that would singe even the most seasoned of ears.

"How the hell did she do it?" he spat.

"Do what?" JJ asked, just as Emily said "She didn't…"

"She's gone," Hotch confirmed.

Reid's eyes went completely wide. "That's impossible," he said matter-of-factly. "She should still be immobile for at least another five hours…."

"Well, immobile or not, she ain't there," said Morgan through clenched teeth.

Reid began searching the street wildly. There were scores of police officials, fellow agents, emergency personnel, and so forth, but he couldn't see the one thing he desperately needed to find—the sight of Sienna Nolan, walking away into the dark of a Baltimore night.

"Come on, let's get you looked at," Hotch said finally, and Reid allowed himself to be walked over to the waiting ambulance.

"Ah, Reid?" Morgan asked suddenly.

"Yeah…?"

"What's with the dress?"

For the first time since he had seen his teammates' faces, Reid felt the slightest bit of shame. "I didn't have a choice," he offered as a way of explanation. "She took all of my clothes…"

* * *

**A/N: The "Flying Wallendas" are a real-life family of renowned trapeze artists. Look them up, they're pretty fascinating... :)  
**


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